Let It Out
by Chelley Angel
Summary: When you bring the best of the best together, anything can happen. In this case, it's a band. But when sparks start to fly, will they stick together? Shounen-ai warning: YYY BR MM
1. Default Chapter

Oh look, I started a new story. It's a bit interesting, really… The idea just sparked out of nowhere and I've been toying with it ever since, but I couldn't seem to write a decent first chapter. Well, finally, it's done.

**Pairings: Yami/Yugi, Ryou/Bakura, Malik/Mariku. Maybe Kaiba/Jou if they fit into the plot. Perhaps Shaadi/Isis as well… hmm. I'll have to think about that one.**

**Disclaimer: Saying that I own Yu-Gi-Oh! Is like saying that the earth is round because of the cows. It's just not right. Still, the plot's mine, and I don't tolerate plagiarism. If you want to borrow something, just ask.**

**Enjoy!**

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

"So come back… to… me…" Bakura Ryou finished, the last note lingering in the air, suspended over his audience before gently fading away. There was a long moment of utter, magical silence before applause broke out, growing in volume like a wave before it swelled into a loud roar.

Ryou smiled at his audience, glad that they had enjoyed his performance. It was nice to make others happy with his voice.

At the age of 15, his career had taken off. Bakura Ryou was as close to an "overnight celebrity" as you could get in the music industry. He had yet to produce an album, but every concert he had sold out completely.

Critics raved about the snowy-haired teen with the bright emerald eyes, calling him "Blessed by God" or saying he was gifted with the "voice of an Angel". His only enemies were those who were jealous, for Bakura Ryou had a lovely personality as well: always polite, kind, and gentle.

Ryou slipped offstage, and nearly ran into his friend, cousin, and manager, Isis Ishtar. "Oh, no… sorry about that, Isis."

"No problem," she smiled. "That was a nice concert, there."

Ryou blushed. It always felt nice to be praised by the people he knew and loved best, because they had high expectations. Therefore, when _they_ praised him, he knew he had done well. Their entire clan was influenced by the Arts: Ryou's mother had married into the family, but she'd sung opera. Ryou's father had been an organist, and his sister Amane had been an amazing violinist. But they had died in a terrible car crash, and Ryou had moved in with his cousins Isis and Malik Ishtar.

They, too, were part of the clan, and therefore obligated to choose an aspect of the Arts to excel in. Isis, always an overachiever and a perfectionist, had chosen oil painting. She juggled painting and her managing job quite well.

Where his sister Isis had chosen painting, Malik Ishtar chose to dance. Not ballet ("I never want to be thought of as one of _them_," Malik had said, disgusted, although he did admire the discipline and strength that ballet required.), but he studied any other type of dance he could find, including native Egyptian dances praising the Gods.

Isis managed her brother's career as well. Malik didn't like to dance with other people… or rather, other people didn't like to dance with Malik. When professionals danced with the soon-to-be 16-year-old, he made them feel slow, clumsy, and heavy. So Isis had somehow managed to have Malik tour solo.

People flocked to see Malik dance, entranced by his movements as others were attracted to Ryou's singing. Isis' paintings were featured in exhibits all over the world. They should have been content, and yet… each had a problem.

Ryou, although he was reluctant to admit it, did _not_ like his musicians. He had both a band and an orchestra touring with him; it depended on what kind of concert he was giving to determine which one would play at a particular time. The band didn't get along with the orchestra, and was constantly pushing him to choose "normal" music, and to forget the "classical crap".

All Ryou really wanted was a band he could get along with, and for one band member to be able to play classical pieces on a piano instead of a keyboard every once in a while. It wouldn't be a hard wish to grant.

Malik was tired of dancing, dancing, dancing all the time, and to _recorded music_, no less! He wanted musicians, and he also wanted to be able to rest for a while, and to be able to explore other areas of the Arts. While his voice might not be as perfect as Ryou's, it was still pleasant, and singing duets with his adorable cousin was always fun. But the main thing was, Malik needed "a fucking break," as he so eloquently phrased it.

Isis…. Well. Isis was tired of listening to Malik complain. She was worried about how little sleep Ryou was getting. She was sick of constantly being on edge.

So, yes. A break would be in order.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Ryou smiled. "Thanks," he said. "It means a lot, coming from _you_."

It was true. Isis wasted no time in telling Ryou when he was sharp, flat, or anywhere but dead center on a note, although she did so in a kind way.

Isis laughed. "Better cherish it, then. Listen, this was your last concert for this tour. We're meeting up with Malik in the next town over tomorrow afternoon where we'll get to watch _his_ last show. Then we're going to rest for a while, all right?"

"That sounds _great_," Ryou said, relief evident in his voice. "I'll just go change, and meet you at the lobby of the hotel later, ok?"

"Sure," Isis said. Then she paused, and added, "I'm very proud of you. Just thought you should know that."

Then she turned around with a swish of her hair, and walked silently away.

Ryou smiled again. He did so love his cousin. She always knew when he was stretched a little too thin.

And he would get to see Malik soon. His immediate future looked pretty bright, indeed.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Malik Ishtar woke up tired and grumpy. He stared at the ceiling of his lavish hotel suite and groaned, flipping around and burying his head into his pillow. "D'n wann' getup," his muffled voice said.

Still, this stupid hotel mattress and blanket weren't all that comfortable anyways. With a soft, resigned sigh, Malik threw the pillow halfway across the room and sat up, watching as it bounced off the wall to land with a soft _Puff!_ on the floor.

His eyes flicked to the right as he saw what time it was: 11:33. Hmm… his performance was at 2:30, and he needed to get to the theater by 12:30. He could do it.

He grabbed the clothes that someone had set out for him the night before, on Isis' orders no doubt, and pulled them on, still half-asleep. He finally woke up fully in the middle of his brunch when some idiot 5-year-old "accidentally" smashed a fist into one of the fire alarms.

A slightly less grumpy Malik walked into the theater building at 12:35, and began to stretch in one of the rooms backstage. He grinned happily as he felt his body untense, muscle by muscle.

Mm… now, what was he performing today, again? Mali thought for a second. His previous show had been an Egyptian dance, so this time… ohhh yes. Malik's eyes lit up insanely. This time was Improv.

Well, that was good. He wouldn't have to rehearse a specific dance. Isis, being the "evil" older sister that she was, never told Malik what music she would play for his Improv shows, feeling it kept him on his toes.

He felt considerably better now. He'd watched Ryou's concert last night on television, too, and remembering it made him smile. "Ryou really outdid himself that time," Malik said aloud.

"Why, thank you," a voice behind him giggled. "Glad you enjoyed, Malik."

Malik was on his feet and giving Ryou an enthusiastic hug in less than 5 seconds. "It was _fabulous_," he exclaimed. "Did you have fun? _My_ tour's been…interesting." Malik made a face.

Ryou bit his keep to keep a straight face, and widened his eyes innocently. "Ohh, you mean that one guy who tried to sneak backstage and like, _rape_ you or something? That was all over the news, you know…"

Malik groaned. "Don't be mean, Ryou, it was possibly the most disturbing thing that's ever happened in my _life_."

Ryou made a sympathetic sound. "I'm sorry, Malik, I really am, but… it was just so _funny_…"

"Whatever," Malik said dismissively. "Have _you_ had any stalkers, my lovely cousin?"

"Um…" Ryou said, squirming slightly. "Not exactly, but…"

Malik's eyes lit up in glee. "Oh no, no, Ryou, you're _not_ getting out of this one!"

"You're bound to find out, anyways," Ryou sighed resignedly. "Well, after the show yesterday night, this… _mob_ was waiting for me. You know what Isis always says: smile, wave, and rush past as fast as you can, right? Well, it's _hard_ when you're half-blinded! What kind of flashbulbs do those people use? Anyways, I stumbled through the photographers, and straight into a group of rabid girls who immediately start shrieking and trying to tear my _clothes off_… Malik, it isn't funny!"

"My, my, my…. Has my darling Ryou finally been deflowered?"

Ryou blushed, eyes widening in indignation. "There was no 'deflowering' of any kind! Rishid managed to find me!"

Rishid was the Ishtars' bodyguard, but was more like a brother to them all.

Malik snapped his fingers mock-dejectedly, muttering, "Damn! 15 and still a virgin… Ryou, I'll have you know that you're …"

"Sad, pathetic, and way too pure," Ryou chimed in with Malik, rolling his eyes. "You say that every time, silly."

"I'm hoping the repetition will make you see the truth," Malik replied impishly. He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, wondering what the time was. "_1:19?! Shit! _Ryou, much as I love you, you've got to go. I've got to find my costume, my makeup person, check out the stage, finish warming up…"

"All right, all right," Ryou grumbled. "I'm going. You'd better put on a good show for me, though."

Malik licked his lips slowly, seductively.

"Oh _Malik_!" Ryou groaned. "You know that's not what I meant! Come on!"

Malik chuckled. "I know. Now, out."

"Leaving," Ryou sighed, shutting the door gently behind him. He couldn't see how Malik could dance so well. Ryou could dance, but _Malik_… you had to see Malik to believe it.

He slipped quietly out of the theater building, pulling too-large sunglasses out of his pocket and onto his face. As cliché as that sounded, the disguise worked. He pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, making sure each white strand wasn't visible.

He ambled down the streets of the town. He liked it here.. the quiet. Tokyo really had been much too loud for his taste.

He stepped inside a coffee shop, and paid for an iced mocha, which he sipped happily as he resumed his wandering/sightseeing. His eyes fell on an antique shop across the street. '_Perfect_,' he thought happily. '_I still haven't gotten Malik a birthday present, yet.'_

As he pushed open the door, bells tinkled softly, and chimed again after the door slid shut. Ryou looked around, eyes wide behind his shades.

While most antique shops were dark and musty, this one was filled with light, and had a very cheerful atmosphere. Brightly colored oriental rugs and tapestries hung on the walls, and a caged canary sang from where it was hung by the window.

"Hey, you need help?" A feminine voice asked? Ryou saw that the speaker was a brunette who leaned casually on the counter. '_Her skirt's too short_,' was his initial thought.

"Oh, no… that's all right," Ryou said softly. "I'm just looking. I'll be careful."

"Mm, whatever," the girl sniffed. "My name's Anzu, by the way. And geez, those sunglasses of yours are annoying. Can't you take them off?"

Ryou, still behind his disguise, blinked. The atmosphere of the store didn't match the attitude of this young woman at all. "I'm sorry," he murmured, thinking fast. "But I have very sensitive eyes. I have to keep them on; doctor's orders."

"Yeah, ok. Just look around, choose something, leave. I'm looking after the shop today for my Grandma, and I have a date soon, so come _on!_"

While Anzu had been yattering, Ryou _had, _in fact, found something that he liked. Two things, in fact. One was a long, smooth, shiny golden… walking stick? Ryou didn't know. On top there was a round Egyptian Eye, and 2 "wings" protruded from the sphere. Ryou was sure Malik would love it.

The other item was a silver knife, with either a garnet or a ruby – Ryou couldn't tell – embedded firmly into the hilt. Ryou, admiring it, thought with a chill that the jewel matched exactly the color of a deep, red wine… or the color of fresh blood.

Taking his items to Anzu, he fidgeted nervously as he pair and walked quickly out the door. She scared him… or perhaps it was just the overpowering smell of her cheap perfume mixed with the stench emitted from the nail-polish bottle she had just opened.

It was now 2:15; Ryou would make it just on time. He knew that he and Isis would have front row seats, so he didn't have to worry about finding one. As a wind blew past, Ryou shivered. November was just too cold.

Ryou slid into his seat just as the lights began to dim. Isis looked over at him with raised brows. "You're late," she commented in a lowered voice.

"Sorry," Ryou panted. "Got side-tracked. Had to get Malik a present."

Isis' mouth formed a small "O" in understanding, and she nodded, accepting the explanation. The music had just begun to play, and both fixed their eyes on the lone figure dancing on the stage.

Ryou was caught up in the dance, wondering how anyone could move that way. Malik's body twisted sensually as he employed everything down to the merest fingertip to do its job. Ryou's breath caught in his throat as he remembered that this was one of Malik's Improv performances – all his movements were improvised, made up on the spot. Ryou's eyes widened in amazement.

Ryou sat through 7 long dances, stunned. He had seen Malik dance often enough before, but each time, he was dumbfounded all over again. After the show, Ryou raced backstage into Malik's dressing room.

"You were _terrific_," he said breathlessly, green eyes sparkling.

Malik smirked. "I try."

"Now, Malik," Isis warned from the doorway. "Don't get too cocky. Although I must admit… that was _very_ good." She smiled at her 2 charges. "You have both made me _very_ proud."

Malik knew just as well as Ryou how hard it was to earn such praise from Isis. "Thanks, sis," he grinned, a warm feeling filling his chest.

Ryou would have said something as well, but Isis' cell phone rang. "Rats," she murmured. "Hold on a second… Hello? No, Ryou can_not_ give another concert tomorrow, he's going on break. No, not Malik either. They're both taking some time off. Thank you. Yes, of course. Bye."

She looked up at the ceiling, asking plaintively, "Why is it that these people never _listen_ when I tell them that you're going on break?"

"Well, maybe they just forgot," Ryou said reasonably.

"Or maybe they're just dumbasses who can't get enough of us," Malik snorted.

He had removed his makeup and changed into street clothes. He held a pair of over-large sunglasses identical to Ryou's loosely in one hand. "Do I _have_ to wear these?" he asked, glaring at them with distaste.

"You pick. It's the shades or the Paparazzi," Isis shrugged, her clear blue eyes laughing at him. Malik grumbled, but didn't put them away just yet.

There was a knock on the door, and Ryou pulled it open. Rishid pushed a huge wheelbarrow full of flowers into the dressing room. "From all your adoring fans. Have fun, Malik," the man commented dryly before exiting.

"Flowers…. Fun." Malik picked through the assortment carefully. "Well, let's see. Ah!" He gently tugged a blossom free, and offered it to Isis. "A rose for the lovely manager…"

Isis accepted gracefully, rolling her eyes. Malik was still talking. "A white lily for our darling Ryou…"

Ryou took it gently, "… and the rest for me!"

They all laughed at Malik's over-dramaticized ending. "Come on, let's go out to eat," Malik urged. "Somewhere… _greasy_."

"Eww, no," Ryou complained. "Not another fancy restaurant, but no McDonald's, either!"

"Will you settle on KFC?" Isis asked, choosing a random fast food place.

"I'm not in the mood for chicken," Malik sighed.

"Subways?" Ryou suggested. "I heard my guitarist say that it's another fast food place from America. It's supposed to be pretty healthy, but good."

"Might as well," Malik shrugged.

"Fine with me," Isis agreed.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Subways probably never had odder customers. As an employee would later tell a reporter: "And then this _limo_ pulls up and then out step _Bakura Ryou_, and _Ishtar Malik_, and _Ishtar Isis_, too! Do you know how much her paintings are going for?! Anyways, they come in and half the employees are clamoring for an autograph…. They're lucky there weren't any other customers and at the time, you know? They order, take their food, and leave, just like that. But they gave us 3 times the amount of money they needed to! I'm telling you, those 3 are rising stars. You just mark my words, they will go _very_ far."

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

**Yes. And that is it. Please review! _Please_! It would make me extremely happy. I NEED happy right now: school is killing me. I will die!**

**Hope you liked it.**


	2. Happy Birthday

**Edit: I just read over this and realized that there were a few more spelling/grammar mistakes that I was too happy with, so I'm fixing them right now. Terribly, terribly sorry. **

**Yay! I'm back! I didn't die! You all are the _best_, seriously. The reviews made me so happy!**

**This fic is just unbelievably difficult to write. I have a plot, and I know what needs to happen where, but making those things happen to my satisfaction… it's frustrating! And I can't _rush_ things, no matter how much I want to, so what was originally going to be one chapter now has to be split into two.**

**Pairings: Yami/Yugi, Ryou/Bakura, Malik/Mariku. Maybe Kaiba/Jou if they fit into the plot. Perhaps Shaadi/Isis as well… Or Rishid/Isis? I don't know. Review and tell me.**

**Disclaimer: Saying that I own Yu-Gi-Oh! Is like saying that the sky is blue because of the penguins. It's just not right. Still, the plot's mine, and I don't tolerate plagiarism. If you want to borrow something, just ask.**

**Things to note this chapter: Ryou, Isis, and Malik have plenty of servants/employees to cook for them, clean for them, garden, etc. But it's so much sweeter when you do something yourself than ordering someone else to do it, isn't it? So Ryou prefers to do it personally because it would have more sentimental value. What a sweetie!**

**I realize that Yuugi is a little bit OOC. I'm sorry. And so is Isis, and Rishid… agh. I'll try to do better. But remember: It's a FANfiction! **

**Keith is just an interesting little person in this story. His music is a little country, but his vocals suck. Most of the Bandits' songs consist of long electric guitar and drum solos. He's pretty old, around 30, but is still trying to hang on to his "stardom". **

**I don't think there are drinking laws in Japan. Hmm. We'll just pretend that there aren't. Don't ask why I had Anzu and Mai as people you meet. We'll probably never meet them again, but I really hate OCs…**

**Enjoy! Happy early Valentine's day!**

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Malik's birthday. Every year, it was a source of worry to Ryou and Isis. Malik always wanted to do the craziest things, and he would sulk if he was kept away from doing them. And a sulky, whiny Malik was like a Magic spell for disaster.

At 6:00 in the morning, Ryou's alarm clock blasted him awake. _Stupid thing,_ he growled at it mentally. _Why am I up again?_

And then he remembered.

Ryou shot out of bed, grabbing clothes, dragging a brush through his hair as he tried to squeeze toothpaste onto his toothbrush. _Hurry, hurry, hurry!_ he sang to himself in his head. _Have to make Malik breakfast in bed, buy the cake, wrap the weird… gold-thingie I bought him… ok._

And he had to be quiet, too. Malik was a moderately light sleeper, so there was a 50/50 chance of him waking up.

Now halfway awake and blinking away the last traces of sleep, Ryou padded quietly down the stairs of their mansion, skipping a step that squeaked. _We need to get that fixed,_ he thought, making himself a mental note.

His fingers quickly tied his shoelaces and he stood up, hand on the doorknob, ready to leave, when – "Ryou, where are you going?"

Ryou nearly jumped out of his skin before he realized that the speaker was Isis. "D-D… Isis, don't _do_ that!" he hissed, still trying to be quiet.

"Well, sorry," she shrugged. Then she glared at him. "You have _not_ been getting nearly enough sleep."

"But I have a good reason!" Ryou protested. "I have to go buy Malik his cake, and then I'll make him breakfast and take it up to him so he can have it in bed, and then I still have to wrap his present!"

"Not good enough," Isis growled. "Either compromise, or it's _straight_ back to bed with you!"

Ryou knew that look in her eye. He gulped.

"Isis," Ryou pleaded, drawing the vowels out.

He saw her giving in. _Come on,_ Ryou thought desperately. _Come on…_ She was still fighting an inner battle.

She gave.

"Fine," she relented, and was rewarded with a stunning smile and green eyes sparkling with gratitude. "But!"

Ryou went still.

"One. I go get that cake. _Don't say anything_," she said sternly to Ryou, who had opened his mouth, a frown on his face. "Two. You go make that breakfast, and I'll wrap your present when I get back."

Ryou was _not_ happy. Isis had managed to give herself the bulk of the work. "No."

"Yes."

"_No_."

"_Yes."_

"You know, we're going to wake Malik up. No."

"We won't wake him up if you'll just be reasonable. _Yes_."

"Are you sure?"

"Ah! You realized it was pointless to argue with me. _Bravo_, Ryou, well done at this display of common sense. Now scat. Shoes off, and get to the kitchen."

"Hmph."

Isis watched with an amused smile as Ryou stalked off, looking like a miffed cat that had just had its tail trodden on.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

At exactly 10:25, Malik was lying in bed pretending to be asleep. He'd woken about 20 minutes ago.

_Mm… I wonder when Ryou's coming up…?_

It was the same every year. Ryou would make him breakfast, which he would eat in bed. Malik always loved that, because Ryou would never let their hired cook help with the food on Malik's birthday. And, in Malik's opinion, Ryou's cooking was ten times better, anyways.

The door slid open with a quiet "_kchak_" and Ryou's soft voice whispered, "Malik, are you awake?"

Malik rolled over and blinked "sleepily".

"R-Ryou?" he asked, turning the last part of the word into a yawn. He congratulated himself on his good acting skills.

Ryou rolled his eyes. "Happy birthday, idiot."

Malik grinned. "Thanks. I think."

"Anytime." Changing the subject, Ryou went on, "I wasn't sure quite exactly what you wanted, and so I just made a bunch of stuff…"

At this point, Malik's face turned completely dreamy.

"And I know sushi for breakfast just isn't done, but you haven't had it for a while, so I thought why not? And then I know you've gone on some insane liking for all that greasy American food," Ryou shuddered and made a face, "and so I fried a couple of eggs with bacon. And then some _onigiri_, of course, and milk and juice, and I even brought coffee if you want it. But don't get hyper, please, and—"

"Ryou." Malik interrupted. "That has got to be the longest run-on sentence I've heard for a while."

Ryou flushed. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"And so…" Malik said, a somewhat frightening smile on his face, "What should I eat first…?"

He reached eagerly with his chopsticks towards the eggs and bacon, but Ryou thrust a small cup filled with fresh fruit in front of him first.

"Aww, _Ryou_," Malik whined.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Elsewhere in the city, Mutou Yuugi was bored almost to tears. When his agent had signed him into Keith's band, the Bandits, he hadn't known that Keith was an arrogant, narcissic jerk. The only other sane person in the band was Takahashi Bakura, and sometimes Yuugi feared he wasn't sane at all. Bakura had far too many knives for Yuugi's comfort, and he didn't think that they were just there for decoration, either.

He tapped his drumsticks together idly, wishing that something would happen other than the glaring contest between Bakura and Keith. A dagger had now appeared in one of Bakura's hands; Yuugi had known one of them would appear sooner or later. He tuned into the conversation with a small amount of interest. Keith looked a cross between pissed off and scared… hmm.

"Look, Keith," Bakura was saying furiously, "You need to explain to me just _why_ I haven't gotten paid for the last 3 months!"

Yuugi frowned thoughtfully. He hadn't gotten his money either, and had been going to talk to Keith about it in private.

"Bakura, _Bakura_," Keith said condescendingly, with a sickly smile on his face, "I'm sure this is all a big mistake – "

"_Bullshit_!" The dagger thudded ominously into the wooden floor, buried to the hilt. Bakura's eyes glittered dangerously. "Then can you explain that new mansion? Or those cars? I could go on, you know, I made a list."

Keith looked positively green. Who was this… this fucking _seventeen-_ year old _boy_ telling him what to do? But on the other hand, the brat was dangerous.

"I _quit_ your stupid Bandits, Keith!" Bakura snarled. "You can't sing worth _shit_, and this band has no talent whatsoever! Well… Yuugi can drum, but Bones… worst bass guitarist there is! What'd he do to get hired, become your fuck-buddy?"

Yuugi stole a look at Bones, whose pale-white face had turned red with anger, embarrassment, and… shame?

Bakura noticed it, too, and gave a disgusted snort. "Should've known," he spat.

Keith was trying to bluff. "Ha!" he said scornfully, but the quaver in his voice gave him away. "And who's gonna hire you, kid, huh? You're only seventeen, dumbass!"

"_You_ don't pay attention to any news about your band members, do you?" Bakura smirked. "People are _clamoring_ for me, idiot! I'm the most wanted electric guitarist in Asia, and I feel confident enough to leave a pathetic animal like _you!_"

Keith's complexion turned a pale white, then to a dark purple, then to a light red, and he choked, trying to find the right words to curse with. Yuugi bit his thumb, hard, to keep quiet. His thin frame shook as it was wracked with silent laughter. Bakura had hit the nail right on the head.

"Bakura, you can't quit _now_," Yuugi objected, keeping the mirth from his voice. Bakura turned on him, mahogany eyes wild and spitting fire.

"Don't _you_ tell me what to do, _shrimp_!"

Yuugi gasped, clutching a hand to his heart dramatically before saying coldly, "Shut up. _Listen_ to me for once."

Bakura's mouth twisted disdainfully, but it stayed shut. Yuugi beamed. "Now, was that so hard?"

The muscles around the white-haired boy's mouth contracted and Yuugi knew that he was clenching his teeth. He also knew that he was pushing it, and said hastily, "All right. Keith."

The blonde American-wannabe's smile was a little forced. "Yes, Yuugi?"

Yuugi groaned inwardly. He was _fifteen_, and Keith treated him like he was _five_.

"I will have to say that I agree with Bakura on this. You're _sad_. I'm sorry. If there was a gentler way to say it, I would, but there isn't."

The smile had disappeared, and in its place was an ugly scowl.

Yuugi went on calmly, placidly. "And I really believe I would be happier elsewhere. So, I'm leaving. With Bakura, preferably." Yuugi wanted a familiar face, even if it was… well, even if it _was_ Bakura. He looked pointedly at the named male, who shrugged and nodded nonchalantly.

"Still. Since we have a concert at that one nightclub tonight, we'll stay for this show. Then, we're out."

Keith was still fishing for words, shaking his head with his mouth hung half-open disbelievingly.

"You'll catch flies that way," Bakura pointed out coolly. "And _shorty_! I'll go along with you this time, but you can't make decisions for me, and you and I are not a 'we'! You are _far_ too happy and hyper."

"Whatever," Yuugi yawned.

A small sigh in the corner of the room drew all of their attention. Keith sneered, "So, Bones, you gonna quit, too? _Huh?_"

"I...!"

"You might as well leave this sorry piece of crap," Bakura said matter-of-factly.

Keith lunged to his feet. "I've had _enough_," he shrieked, irate. He pulled out a gun from his jacket, but Bakura had 2 wickedly long, sharp throwing knives in each hand.

"Hmm," Bakura said conversationally, mockingly. "Shall we see? Your shooting skills to my knife throwing."

Yuugi stomped a foot in frustration, storming back to his drum set. They could fight it out, if they wanted to. _He_ was going to drum as loudly as he could to drown out all of this stupidness.

Oh, he'd _known_ joining the Bandits was a stupid idea! But… only 1 more concert. He could do this.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

"But I wanna _go_," Malik whined. "_Please_, Isis…"

"Absolutely _not_," she snapped, eyes stormy. "I've let you do everything else you've wanted to do today, Malik, but we are _not going_!"

"Malik…" Ryou said wryly, "Did you really expect Isis to agree? She'd have Rishid strangle you first."

"And I'd do it willingly, too." Rishid was stationed by the door. His voice rumbled with amusement when he asked, "A _club_, Malik? Never mind that you're not old enough, and never mind that you'd act slutty if you went…"

Rishid was cut off by Malik's huff of anger. He chuckled, and went on, "… Never mind any of that, but you'd be recognized 10 seconds flat."

"So?" Malik demanded, mouth set in a mulish line. "I haven't been able to dance for _real_ since like, my 7th grade Valentine's Day Dance! It's not _fair!_"

Isis sighed. "Malik, I know, and I'm truly sorry for it, but you know you have a specific style of dancing that you carry over to just about everything. It's too _noticeable_!"

Malik's fire dimmed. _Ooh. Damn, she has a point._

Isis wasn't done. "And you'd bring at least Ryou along, and with _his_ hair he'd be recognized for himself or for that… that guitarist in the Bandits. _Not_ that I don't love your hair," she added hurriedly to Ryou.

Ryou shrugged. No offense taken.

Now Malik could argue back. "I have _that_ all thought out," he retorted, a little smugly. "The Bandits are playing at **Lava** tonight. Ryou could say he was an obsessed fan. Easy as that."

"Well, congratulations on getting _Ryou_ permission," Isis said dryly. "Now what about _you_?"

Malik hadn't thought this far yet. "I'm getting there," he muttered crossly. "I'll… wear sunglasses?"

"_In a club_?"

"Wig?"

"It'd fall off."

"Can I just _please_?"

"When you have a good reason!"

"But..!"

Ryou decided that he should help a little. After all, it sounded… fun. He needed excitement, and he wanted Malik to be happy.

"Isis, you know Malik's a good liar," he said softly. "And it wouldn't be unnatural for two obsessed fans to be together, you know."

"I _knew_ I could count on you, Ryou!" Malik exclaimed happily, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. "Please, please, _please_, Isis…!"

Rishid saw her resolve cracking. Soon it would shatter into a million pieces. Stone-faced, he sighed inwardly and started to prepare himself mentally for a long night of horrible, loud music and too-bright neon lights.

"Malik, I don't doubt your lying skills," Isis began, a little grumpily because she was giving in, "But you _cannot_ get carried away, do you hear me? I want fake names."

"I'll be…. Na… mu!" Malik said slowly. "Namu!"

"Odd Egyptians," Ryou laughed. "That's an _interesting_ name…"

"Your _dad_ was half-Egyptian, so hush," Malik scowled.

"Sorry," Ryou shrugged. "All right, name, name… I need a name…"

"Damn straight, you do!" Malik interrupted his murmuring. "Hurry _up_, I want to _leave!_"

After a few minutes of silence, he growled, "Ok, you know what? Your name's going to be Ry-chan. All settled! Let's go!" And with that, Ryou's hand was seized and he was towed out of the door.

Isis looked up prayerfully. "Why? Why me? Rishid… we'd better go. And you should get ready. Those two are magnets for trouble…"

She swished out, calling, "Malik, stop _right there!"_

Rishid, employers now gone, dropped his emotionless expression. "What does she mean, 'Why her'? I'm asking, why _me_. Dammit…"

Muttering oaths under his breath, Rishid stalked out.

And the empty room glowed as it basked in the glorious silence.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

"Isis," Ryou asked, curious, "Where did you get me and Malik fake IDs?"

"Nowhere," she replied calmly… well, as calmly as she could sound while shouting over the booming music. "Go on! Have fun. _Malik_ is…"

The last bit was added with dry humor. Malik had started out dancing by himself, but now he was dancing with two girls, and three boys at the same time. Isis' lips were pursed in disapproval, and Ryou winced. He wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of her lecture later.

"I'm going to get something to drink," he told her.

She nodded without taking her eyes off of her brother. "Go ahead. Just don't get drunk. Hangovers aren't fun."

Ryou imagined a drunk Isis and failed, although trying brought a smile to his lips. "I won't," he promised, and made his way towards the bar, and towards the stage.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Malik was having the time of his life. The brunette in front of him smiled slyly and traced her fingers across his chest while male arms wrapped around his waist from behind.

"Mm…" he purred, eyes half-lidded and a sleepy smile on his face.

The last notes of the song died away, and he pulled away from his partners. "I'll see you all later," he winked, and sauntered away, making sure to sway his hips.

"I _knew_ he'd act slutty," Rishid growled from the bar. "I damn well _told him_…" he downed a swallow of beer.

A gentle finger tapped his shoulder and he whirled around, a hand at the gun at his waist. "You shouldn't drink too much," Ryou informed him as Rishid relaxed again.

"I won't get drunk on duty."

"What'll ya have, hon?" The bartender was a buxom blonde, purple eyes twinkling at him. A shiny, glittery nametag that read "Mai" drew attention to her chest even more.

"Strawberry daiquiri, please," Ryou replied brightly.

"Aww, so polite! What a sweetie," Mai chuckled. "Hold up."

Ryou slid onto the stool next to the bodyguard, who cracked a rare smile. "Not dancing?" he inquired.

Ryou made a face. "No… no, that's Malik's thing. I might later."

Mai had caught the last part. Sliding Ryou his drink, she asked, "Malik? As in, Ishtar Malik?"

Ryou cursed himself in his mind every way that he knew how. "N-no!" he stammered, eyes wide with feigned innocence.

"Our friend, Namu," Rishid cut in smoothly, "Is a horrible Ishtar Malik fan. Acts like him, talks like him… and even wants to be called Malik."

"Oh," Mai nodded. "Yeah, my friend's brother's kinda like that. Just dyed his hair blonde, and his colored contacts'll get here in a week."

Ryou, who had been sipping his drink, nearly choked. There were actually people… like that?

"Mm, and _you_, hon," Mai mused, turning on Ryou, "Came to see Takahashi Bakura tonight, did you? Nice dye for the hair, by the way, can't even see the roots."

Takahashi Bakura…? Oh, right. The person he was supposed to be obsessed about.

Ryou nodded emphatically, allowing a huge smile to split his face. "Isn't he just the _greatest_? He's so _fine_…!"

Rishid snorted into his second mug of beer. "Something caught in my throat," he choked out. Ryou glared at him.

All of a sudden, the music switched off and the stage lit up brightly. Ryou winced at the light.

"Presenting… the _Bandits_!" the DJ screamed into his microphone.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

**And that's it. Review please, and tell me who you like Isis with better: Rishid, or Shaadi? They're both going to be in it, so it doesn't matter. Also: this story can have magic, or not. It doesn't affect the plot very much at all, so it's all up to you guys.**

**Thanks! Don't forget to read the notes at the top! Elemenia _will_ be updated!**


	3. Welcome

**I am quite happy to inform you all that I have not died. You have no idea how sorry I am that I haven't updated, and I especially have no excuse since it's summer. I am dreadfully, dreadfully, dreadfully sorry. I really am.**

**Pairings: Yami/Yuugi, Ryou/Bakura, Malik/Mariku. Maybe Kaiba/Jou if they fit into the plot. Perhaps Shaadi/Isis as well… Or Rishid/Isis? I don't know. Review and tell me. -- THIS IS IMPORTANT! So far, only 1-2 people have said Rishid/Isis. Please tell me what you think!  
**

**Disclaimer: Saying that I own Yuu-Gi-Oh! Is like saying that the ocean is purple because of the leopards. It's just not right. Still, the plot's mine, and I don't tolerate plagiarism. If you want to borrow something, just ask. ALSO! All songs are MINE. I WRITE ALL OF THE SONGS IN THIS STORY. DO NOT TAKE THEM. THEY ARE MINE.**

**Notes on this chapter: The FUU clan is the one that Ryou, Malik, and Isis belong to. Ryou has a different last name, but never fear: it does work out. If you want his family tree, then ask me for it. And remember, this is a _clan_. You belong to it no matter how far removed you are.**

**The KEI clan is their rival. Generations of …well, not quite hatred, but strong dislike have made them misunderstand each other. However, despite their rivalry, they still have a strong respect for each other.**

**Let's just get on with it, shall we? I don't want to bore you to tears after all this time.**

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Bakura's eyes were glazed over as he played the opening riff to "Angel"; he knew the damn song by heart already, and he was focusing his thoughts on more important things.

The thought of sweet freedom, for one.

"Damn _Keith_," he growled mentally, fingers still dancing between frets. "Damn _Mutou_, so 'cute', so 'in-no-cent'!" His eyes narrowed. Stupid Bandits. Stupid crowd. Stupid club. His hands found the final chord of the chorus and he snapped back to reality. Solo time, and he'd be damned himself if he screwed this last gig up.

Teeth grinding together – he didn't want to be here _anyways_, damn that stupid spike-head! – He poured his anger into the diatonic scale he started out with.

_Damn Keith--!_

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Behind Bakura, Yuugi's eyebrows were raised as he enjoyed his 15-second break. Was it just him… or was Bakura playing a little more explosively tonight than usual?

Yuugi came back in steadily, now shifting his attention to Keith. Still the same hoarse and raspy voice, still the same tacky clothes (especially the bandana!) that he'd had since Yuugi had joined the band a year and a half ago. "How could I have been so _dumb_?" he asked himself, bewildered. "I'm not usually this stupid, am I?"

Well, the nightmare was ending, now, ending with the final words that Keith was attempting to sing: "Even the brightest angels fa-a-a-all."

His voice cracked a little, and Yuugi snickered before feeling a pang of guilt. "He deserves more than laughter," he told himself firmly, to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling.

As their audience cheered (Heaven only knew why), Bakura seemed to take things into his own hands, and he grabbed the microphone from Keith. "I've got news for you people," he announced, while Keith turned an angry red.

Yuugi stood up and joined the guitarist as he said calmly, "Mutou Yuugi and I, Takahashi Bakura, are quitting the Bandits."

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Malik had been enjoying the performance. They had been really, really good… well, the band members, anyways. Keith was pushing his voice to reach notes he wasn't meant to hit, and it was painful to hear him wailing. Malik winced as he thought of how Ryou must be taking the noise.

"Oh yeah, yeah, ye-ah," Keith crowed. Malik laughed freely as Keith tried to dance during the guitar solo: it was reminiscent of a grounded fish flopping around, trying desperately to make it back into the water.

They finished, and Malik cheered enthusiastically with the rest of the crowd, and watched as the mic was wrenched from Keith's grasp, and the announcement made:

The Bandits were going to lose their prized players. They were up for grabs. And Ryou. Needed. A. New. Band.

Malik danced his way through the mob within the space of 3 songs before he finally reached the backstage area. They security guard glared at him, flexing an impressive set of muscles.

"Hi," Malik said, fluttering his eyelashes. The man didn't budge. "I need to get backstage, so pretty please?" The man smirked, but said nothing.

Malik growled softly. Time for more drastic measures. He slid his body closer, and pouted. "Please?"

Malik saw the man's jaw tighten, and grinned inwardly. _Horny bastard… so easy to manipulate, though. I should really count my blessings_.

"I won't make a fuss, I _promise_," Malik continued, lavender eyes wide and solemn as crocodile tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. "I'll do _anything_…"

As a ghost of a grin flitted across the man's face, Malik blinked to shed a few tears, which slipped down his face slowly. His lower lip began to tremble, and inside he was congratulating himself on a job well done.

Two quick glances to either side told the guard that no one else was around. "Maybe for a kiss, I would," he said slyly.

_Ick,_ Malik thought. _Bleah, Ryou had better appreciate this_…

When their lips met, it wasn't so bad. But when tongues came into play, Malik nearly gagged. _Ooh, Ryou, you owe me so much…_

"All right," the guard panted. "Go on through. I'll say I went to the bathroom or something. Now scat. But…" a business card was pulled from his breast pocket and handed over, "…call me if you want to."

Malik said nothing, but winked and slid past. Once he was out of sight, he ripped the card into confetti and scattered it around the floor before continuing his search.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

"We're _free_, we're _free_, we're _free_!" Yuugi shouted as Bakura glared at him.

"Put a sock in it, boy, unless you want a dagger in your throat," he snarled. "You are much too perpetually happy than can _possibly _be healthy. The least you could do is keep it to yourself."

"But _Bakura_," Yuugi whined. "No more _Keith_! No more out of tune songs! No more pain! No more misery!"

Bakura thought about that for a second. "Fine," he relented. "But keep it down. Or that dagger is yours."

"Actually," a tenor voice said from the doorway, "I'm rather glad he was loud. It helped me find you."

Two pairs of eyes swung towards the speaker and his companion. "My, my," Bakura said, a slight note of sarcasm in his voice. "And who exactly are you two?"

The speaker bowed. "Bakura Ryou, at your service. And this is Ishtar Isis."

"_And_ Ishtar Malik," the blonde said, pushing his way in between them. "Damn security guard! How'd you guys get through?"

Isis smiled. "A sketch and two autographs."

Malik narrowed his eyes – what happened to keeping their identities secret?—but Yuugi interrupted.

"Right!" he beamed. "I've heard about all three of you." He looked quizzically at the two boys. "Is it true that you guys are going out?"

Ryou's mouth dropped open as Malik blinked. "I'm positive I didn't hear that right. _Me? Ryou?"_

"Well, that's what Keith said…" _Well, actually, it was more of 'those two disgustingly pretty boys are together, did ya hear? Hmph, no guys that pretty could ever be straight,'_… _but you don't need to know that_.

Malik's eyes began to gleam wickedly as he exclaimed, "Together! That doesn't even _begin_ to cover it. How could anyone say that Ryou and I are merely _together_? We're engaged! No, we're married! He's hot in bed! 'Together' doesn't even begin to describe – !"

"Ishtar Malik, I am never, _ever_, cooking _anything_ for you again!"

_Ohh shit,_ was Malik's first thought. "B-but Ryou, you can't do that!" he cried in horror.

"You… ah, cook for him?" Yuugi prodded delicately.

"_No!_ Wait, _yes_! But it's not… we're not…"

Malik couldn't resist temptation. "Aww, Ryou honey, you don't have to deny it – I mean—!"

"_Ishtar Malik, you had better think about how much you value your life…!_"

Malik's eyes widened. "Okay, okay!" he cried, alarmed. "It was a _joke_, Ryou, geez…"

Ryou's rosebud lips twisted, and he folded his arms across his chest and looked away pointedly.

"I mean, I already have my lovely wife Isis, don't I – OUCH!"

Isis had rapped him sharply on the head. "You're grounded," she told him too-sweetly, and then turned to the wide-eyed drummer and somewhat annoyed guitarist.

"That," she said, glaring at Malik, "Is my idiot brother. And Ryou here is our cousin. We all wanted to know exactly what you meant by your announcement.

Bakura stared at her. "What don't you get, woman? We quit. We're out. We're gone."

"We're free," Yuugi added cheerfully.

"Ah, well, okay," was Isis' diplomatic answer. "And were you wanting to quit the business entirely, or just take a break, or was it because you didn't like being part of the Bandits…?"

"Didn't like the band," Yuugi said, nodding fervently to emphasize his point. "Keith is a freaking dumbass mother fucking… and I'll leave it at that," he said, smiling happily.

"Aww, how cute. The little drummer boy learned how to cuss," Bakura cooed, sarcasm dripping like honey from his words.

"Have you ever heard Ryou sing?" Isis cut in abruptly, before Yuugi could deliver a counter.

Yuugi cocked his head to the side. "We've never really had time. I've heard you're good, though. Really good. Still, I don't understand how you balance classical _and_ pop rock. And what do you do to keep your voice in shape?"

Bakura squashed Yuugi's hair across his head. "So what's your point?" he deadpanned.

"I want to hire you," Isis answered just as bluntly.

Bakura shrugged. "Okay."

The usually unruffled Isis blinked. "Just like that?"

"You've got a good rep. And Ryou sings pretty. I heard him on the radio. And his current guy is good, but believe me when I say I can do better."

"Me too, me too!" Yuugi chirped.

"Just how much fucking sugar did you fucking _have_…?" Bakura demanded.

Completely ignoring them, Isis whipped out her Palm Pilot. "Lovely!" she exclaimed. "So, let's see…"

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

A figure sat in the shadows, eyes fixed on the TV. "Mm… so the Bandits are no more," the leader of the Kei clan mused.

"Those two are talented. Very talented… and our clan doesn't have a band out, currently. If we could recruit those two, and just find a singer… we already have Mariku and Yami, even if they _will_ need a talking to…"

A singer. The only problem was the singer. Bakura Ryou… that boy was entirely too troublesome. Maybe it wouldn't have irked him so much if he only stuck to _one_ genre of music, but now he had the monopoly on both classical _and_ what teens called "normal" music…

Shaadi ground his teeth together in frustration. Why couldn't anything be _simple_…?

Flipping open his laptop, he logged into his email. _Time to contact those two idiots_…

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

**Hello, Yami, Mariku,**

**I'm sure you've heard by now that Takahashi Bakura and Mutou Yuugi are up for grabs. I know you've never been really interested in the Arts, despite the families you were born in, and I know you still resent us because we forced you to learn your respective instruments. Forgive me when I say that I don't apologize.**

**The Kei clan has to start their own band before the Fuu clan gets too far ahead. It would be disastrous! They would rub it in our faces. You two must help prevent that dire future from occurring.**

**Mariku, I hope you've been practicing your bass guitar. If you haven't, start now. I'll even buy you a new one if you like, just so long as you practice. Yami, practice your piano pieces. I expect you to have a repertoire of 25 memorized songs when I see you a week from now. Do try to make one of them that lovely Chopin that I adore so much… but also try your hand at songwriting this…this pop rock or whatever you children call it. It's going to be the music of the future, and we've got to catch up.**

**Mariku, I'll see you 5 days from now. I want you to songwrite as well, and don't go running about setting small children on fire, or whatever it is that you do in your spare time. **

**Yami, I'll see you in a week.**

**Both of you, write to me about any possible singers that you know who might rival that… that Bakura child. And when you do, use complete sentences. You know that I hate your modern slang.**

**Yours truly,**

**Shaadi.**

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Yami stared at the screen in disbelief. _What_? 25 pieces in a fucking _week_? What was the man, insane? And then try his hand at _songwriting_?

Why, by all the Gods who had chosen to ignore him thus far in life, had he been born into this cursed, cursed clan? Music, art, dance, drama… they were wonderful things. He appreciated them greatly. Life would be so much duller without them. But that didn't mean he had to throw his life away _doing_ them.

Piano was lovely. Sometimes, he got into a state where everything just meshed: all the notes, the pedal, his fingers, the emotion… and everything was beautiful.

But the memorizing, and the techniques, and the performing, and the… the _everything_ that they made him do when he wasn't playing just for fun! Yami would have been perfectly happy just learning the basics, but _no_…

Of course, he played well. If Yami had a mind to do something, he did it, and did it well. But that didn't mean he enjoyed it.

What Yami really wanted to do was become a video game designer. He was good at it: he was currently interning at Sakura Corp. Having skipped several grades, he was the youngest intern that had ever been in the corporation yet. His fellows assured him he was going straight to the top.

Yami also wanted to meet Kaiba Seto. The leader of Kaiba Corp, the youngest CEO there ever was. And Yami didn't just want to meet him, he wanted to become his business partner. He knew he was good enough. And it wasn't overconfidence that made him think that – he was confident enough in his own skills to tell himself that he _was_ a good enough designer.

He sat down heavily at the piano bench, staring at but not seeing the pristine black and white keys. He sighed, and began to plunk out the first notes of a Chopin sonata.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

"…'Don't set small children on fire'?" Mariku blinked.

"How did he know?"

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Isis had just told Ryou about the Kei clan's plans to start a band of their own. "Effing bastards," the boy sniffed. "Just because someone from the Fuu clan gets a little bit of recognition, they have to get all defensive and start their _own_ band… Idiots!"

Yuugi peeked his head into Ryou's bedroom. Since their mansion had had at least 5 empty floors, Bakura and Yuugi had been welcomed. "Ryou, are you still mad?"

"Kinda," Ryou said, attempting a smile. "It's just that… why can't they just let us _be_, for once? They always have to butt in, right when everything's going well…"

Yuugi shrugged. "Well, you know, doesn't your clan do that to _them_, too? I mean, _your_ father bested their best organist at the height of his career, didn't he? The man was ruined. And well… I guess I can see it differently from the outside. It looks like a vicious never ending cycle to me."

Ryou's eyes blazed with fury. "Don't you talk about my father like that!"

Yuugi's own violet eyes widened. "Okay! Okay! I'm sorry!"

Ryou slumped back down. "No… it's not your fault… well, you do have a point, there. Your example just hit a little too close to home. You're right. We're all caught in this rat race to beat each other, every generation taught to try and best the other clan."

Yuugi nodded sympathetically. "Well, it was how you were raised. I can't blame you for getting so defensive, either. So," he said more lightly, "What kind of music are we looking at, here?"

Ryou pursed his lips in thought. "Well.. I don't know exactly what genre it is… pop rock? Something like that. But sometimes I'll do something completely different. Like… I don't know. Ohh, I just finished a rather depressing song, though, do you want to hear it?"

Yuugi raised an eyebrow. "_Depressing_?"

Ryou grinned. "I'm not about to commit suicide or anything, I promise. It was a very sad book that I was reading, though."

"Ah."

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

When Malik flew into Ryou's room later, he found Bakura, Ryou, and Yuugi sitting on Ryou's bed, writing down notes and chords respectively for "I Used to Think".

"Oooh, aren't those the lyrics you were finishing yesterday?" Malik asked. "They were good. Made me want to slit my wrists, but good."

Ryou shot him a bemused look. "Was that a compliment, or an insulting compliment…. Or a complimenting insult?"

Malik shrugged. "I don't know. Don't make me think that much."

Ryou threw a pillow at his head. "Idiot."

Yuugi and Bakura watched this exchange somewhat curiously. They had just moved in yesterday, and the ways of the household were still somewhat odd to them.

"So how does it go so far?"

Ryou sighed. "I don't know… the last verse isn't working out quite the way I wanted it to…"

"Well, sing the chorus then!"

Ryou glared at him. "Malik, I could kick you out, you know. But fine. Takahashi-san, do you have all the chords for the chorus written down?"

Bakura stretched. "Yeah."

"All right then! And five, six, seven and eight and…

_All these feelings inside_

_That I keep trying to sort out_

_I try to take it all in stride_

_But I'm blinded by so much doubt_

_All the emotions inside_

_That I need to let loose_

_There's nothing left of my pride_

_I keep trying but there's no use…"_

Ryou let the last note trail away, and then beamed at the other with silver hair. "That was really good! You did something really cool in the middle, that part where you stopped playing the chords, and improvised…. Wow…. He's so much better than Tanobi was, isn't he, Malik?"

"Mm…" Malik agreed. "You were wasted on Keith."

The guitarist grinned. "Heh. I know."

Yuugi pouted. "That isn't a good song for heavy drums, though… maybe if I got a small hand held drum…?"

"Yeah… that would be good. It sounds great right now, but if only we had a pianist, and a bass guitar player…. Damn," Ryou sighed longingly.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

"Ah…Shaadi, you made it."

"Yes, I did, Yami. How has your music been doing?"

Yami resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Fine."

"How's the Chopin?"

"Fine."

"You're bored of me already, aren't you?"

"Fine…wait, what?"

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

**Ughh, what a terrible ending for this chapter. I'm sorry I couldn't think of anything better. But… well, there's your chapter! I think I have a fun little oneshot coming up later, so be sure to check out my profile in the next few weeks. I'm also working on a fic with my friend, HellsfireScythe, and the first chapter will hopefully be done soon. Until then!**

**Review!**


	4. Auditions

**I have decided, quite seriously, that school is the devil. The DEVIL, I tell you! Especially math. Math is the worst. And boys are so very, _very_ confusing. But that's enough about my screwed up life, and let's get on with my darling story.**

**Pairings: Yami/Yuugi, Ryou/Bakura, Malik/Mariku. Maybe Kaiba/Jou if they fit into the plot. Perhaps Rishid/Isis… if enough people ask for it**

**Disclaimer: Saying that I own Yuu-Gi-Oh! Is like saying that Bush is supported by lots of people. It's just not right. Still, the plot's mine, and I don't tolerate plagiarism. If you want to borrow something, just ask. ALSO! All songs are MINE. I WRITE ALL OF THE SONGS IN THIS STORY. DO NOT TAKE THEM. THEY ARE MINE. (I'm just a little protective of my songs. Sorry.)**

**Notes on this chapter:**

**FUU- From CLAMP's Rayearth. It means "wind". **

**KEI- From CLAMP's Legal Drug. It means "fire".**

**I decided on Wind and Fire because Water against Fire is so cliché, isn't it?**

**And off we go. **

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Shaadi stared at the newspaper in front of him, crinkling it as his grip tightened ferociously. "Well, damn it," he said blandly, as though he were commenting on the weather. His eyes were cold in his expressionless face as he set the paper down gently on his desk, and then flipped his laptop open. Yami and Mariku needed to be contacted again.

But still… what to do? His fingers tapped idly on the desk as he waited for the webpage to load. That stupid, _stupid_ FUU clan! How in hell had they gotten to Takahashi Bakura and Mutou Yuugi first? He'd fired off emails as soon as his spy in the club had contacted him, mere seconds after the announcement. The only way that conniving _Isis_ could have gotten there first would have been for her to be there in person… But Isis didn't go to clubs. And even if she did go, it wouldn't be at the exact club that was hosting the Bandits for the last time. And on the very night of their announcement – ! No one could ever be that lucky… could they?

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

"Oh, for the Gods' sake, Shaadi," Mariku groaned as he logged into his email. "Damn you…" He clicked the message open reluctantly.

"**As you undoubtedly know by now, our valiant efforts have been thwarted. The FUU clan got there first, and the members of Bakura Ryou's old band have been dismissed. They are holding auditions for new members, and I expect you to be there. You needn't… lie about your family, per se. Just… gloss over it a little. Yami will be there as well, to keep you in line. I expect you to meet him there. Say that you are siblings; if anyone asks, one of you was adopted or something. That should explain your dissimilar looks. Don't fail me. I'll give you further instructions if you make it into the band. In the meantime, familiarize yourself with Bakura Ryou's music. The auditions are at NGI studios today at 1:00. Shaadi.**

Mariku stared for a moment at the message before clicking the window shut. Screw all of his other emails; Shaadi's alone had made him angry. They were probably all SPAM, anyways.

Muttering to himself angrily, he stepped into the shower, soaking himself in the almost too-hot water. His skin tingled before finally adjusting to the heat, his tense muscles relaxing somewhat.

_Who the hell does he think he **is**?_ He thought furiously, before mocking himself. _He's only the head of your clan who can fucking **order you around…!**_

After rinsing shampoo out of his hair, he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist, then grabbed another and began to roughly dry his hair. It didn't seem to be helping; water still ran in rivulets down his chest and back. _Shit. It'd better not dry puffy again this time…_

He got dressed quickly, in clothes he knew Shaadi would definitely not approve of. He brushed his hair out, then grinned evilly as he lined his eyes with black and covered himself with layers of gold jewelry.

He clanged at himself in the mirror. _Hmm._ A sleeveless black turtleneck, slightly low-cut black denim jeans, a belt of layered golden chains, as well as bracelets and a gold armlet… yes, that was good.

Peering more closely at his face, he frowned before carefully smoothing away a smear in the black around his eyes. His hair was… somewhat behaving: it stuck up in spikes, but at least the spikes weren't out at all angles this time.

Grabbing his car keys from the kitchen counter, he slammed the door to his apartment penthouse shut, and locked it. He was halfway down the hall before he turned back with a growled curse, and returned for his bass guitar.

Starting up the engine of his car, he saw that the clock read 12:45.

… _I have 15 minutes to get to the other side of town,_ he thought dazedly, then grinned insanely and shot out onto the road. Adrenaline… endorphins… they sounded pretty good. Yep.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

"He's _late_!" Yami growled, pacing in front of the NGI building. "Where the bloody hell could he _be_?" He whipped out his cell phone, pressing the speed-dial 2 (Shaadi was number 1). "Pick up, pick up, _pick up_!"

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Mariku glared at his cell phone as it rang _again_. It wasn't like he didn't like his ring tone; he did! That's why it was his ring tone in the first place… but by all that was insane, it was damned irritating when you were driving at 100 miles per hour and it rang 14 times in a row!

All of a sudden, Mariku realized that he was in the very left lane of a four-lane highway, and his exit was in sight. He blinked.

Oh dear. This is a wonderfully difficult problem… 

His eyes glinted as he jerked his steering wheel to the right.

_All right, let's do this thing_.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Yami considered, very seriously, smashing his cell phone. He breathed in deeply, and then let it out. It wasn't the phone's fault that Mariku was an idiot… no, not the phone's fault…

A loud screech of tires made him start. Mariku grinned at him, before hopping out of his car.

"Where have you _been_? We're _late_!" he screeched, following it up with an inventive string of curses. "And you can't just leave your fucking car fucking _there_," he protested as Mariku dragged him into the building. "It's going to get fucking towed!"

"Dear _brother_, in case you haven't noticed, we're _late_," Mariku said sweetly, honey dripping from his words. He flipped open his cell phone and checked the time, ignoring the "20 missed calls" prompt. "…20 minutes late, in fact. Is this really the time to be worrying about a car?"

Yami's hands twitched involuntarily, itching to wrap themselves around his second cousin's neck. His smile was fragile and razor thin. "You're right, _brother dear_. Let's just go inside."

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Ryou was about to cry. There were lots of talented people here, but they just weren't _right_. On his right, Malik leaned back and balanced on only two of his chair's four legs, and yawned, clearly bored. Yuugi sat primly, back straight and ankles crossed, a politely blank look on his face. Bakura had long left; Malik would have left as well, but had stayed because of Ryou's sad expression.

Isis stood behind them, tall and regal; but when she spoke, it was easy to detect weariness in her somewhat hoarse voice. "NEXT!"

The door opened, and a boy stepped in, carrying a guitar case. "Yo," he said smugly. "I'm Rex Raptor, nice to meet y'all, and Ryou, may I say that you're lookin' _fiiiine_ today…"

Malik cut him off with an abrupt, "Okay, you can leave now. That's all we need."

Rex Raptor didn't seem to understand. Slinging the guitar strap over his shoulder, he began to slam through the barely recognizable opening electric guitar solo of one of Ryou's previous songs.

_Wait a second… **electric** guitar?_ Malik thought, opening his mouth to speak. But before he got a chance to, the door slammed open again, revealing a not-so-happy Bakura. "What the hell is that God-awful noise?" he demanded, eyebrows snapping together, sparks flying from his eyes.

"He was just leaving," Yuugi said tersely, hands moving up to cover his throbbing ears.

"He damn well _better_ be leaving!" Bakura snarled. "I've heard wailing cats that've sounded better!"

He stalked over to the amp, and unplugged Rex's guitar. "Thank you," he snapped. "You sucked. Now get your ass out of here."

Rex glared at him indignantly, but then saw silver in Bakura's hands, and seemed to think twice. He picked up his gig bag angrily, and stalked out.

Isis glanced at Ryou, who had gone pale, eyes wide. "Gods, will this nightmare never end?" he moaned finally, burying his face in his hands.

Isis tried to smile encouragingly. "We've only got a few more bass guitarists to go, and then we can go have lunch," she promised.

"But we've got keyboardists after _that_," Malik muttered gloomily.

There was a collective sigh from around the room. "Come on! We can do this!" Yuugi said unconvincingly. "Really!" He paused. "Maybe?"

"Just the bass guitarists, then lunch," Isis repeated, rubbing her tired eyes. "Bakura, you were just out there… how many do we have left?"

Bakura shrugged. "Only two or three. It's not that bad."

"Fair enough," Ryou sighed. "Isis?"

She nodded, then took a deep breath. "NEXT!"

A girl with pink ribbons in her hair stepped in timidly, and closed the door behind her. Ryou blanched and shrank back. It was _the girl from the antique shop_.

She stared at them all for a second, before her face split into a wide smile. "I just want to be your friends!" she said brightly. "Everyone needs friends, don't you think? They make you feel warm and fuzzy inside! And with friends, you can do _anything_, doncha know?" She giggled, her voice squeaking.

Malik stared. "That's got to be the worst squeak I've heard in my _life_," he said, while Yuugi nodded dumbly.

Ryou had had it. "That's _it_!" he cried. "Get out, get out, _get out_!"

Isis pulled out a walkie-talkie, given to her earlier by the manager of the building. "507, we've got a fangirl masquerading as a bass guitarist here," she said firmly into the instrument.

"Soo," she continued, "Like, since we're friends and everything, could I have autographs? As a reminder of our friendship?"

She rambled on and on, always coming back to the subject of friendship before three security guards burst in, and dragged her out. They could hear her squeals echoing down the halls, and Yuugi could faintly make out a few words: "I thought we were friends, you know! How could you betray me this way? But it's okay! I'll forgive you, if you call them off!"

Ryou moaned, slumping forwards. "Holy Goddamn mother fucking dumbass-ish SHIT!" he cried. Everyone stared. Ryou _never_ cursed.

Even Isis looked frazzled. "Just one more," she promised. "Just one more, and then lunch. And you don't have to sit in for keyboardist auditions."

"Yes I do," Ryou disagreed miserably. "I'm the singer, so I've got to make sure I can work with all of the members of the band. I've _got_ to be here, and you know it."

Isis sighed. It was true. "I don't know how she got _in_ here, though," she muttered to herself. "I only called a few top agents… I'll have to have Rishid look into that…"

"Okay, everyone, sit back down," Bakura ordered. "One more guy." He barely waited until everyone was seated at the long table, and yelled, "NEXT PERSON! GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!"

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Mariku grinned when he was called. It seemed that they had been having problems… but that fangirl incident had been ugly, though. He shuddered.

Yami had left to call someone – Mariku didn't know who – and so he'd been left here alone. He sighed, thinking of the reason he was ere. Shaadi. Hmph. Bastard.

Mariku walked into the room, and plugged his electric bass into the amp and straightened. "So how does this work?" he asked, brushing his fingers across the four strings lightly.

A small porcupine-head who looked scarily like Yami answered. "Ryou wrote a new song yesterday, and we recorded a snippet of it."

Malik snorted at the use of the word "snippet". Yuugi glared at him, and then continued, "You're going to listen to it once, and then play along with it the second time."

Mariku nodded. Simple enough. Ryou reached forward, and hit "play".

_'Cause I've_

_Been wasting my time_

_Waiting for you to say good-bye_

_And I've_

_Been out of my mind_

_To think that you were always on my side…_

Mariku pursed his lips in thought after the song was over. He was dimly aware of why critics were raving about this "angel-voice". It really was pretty, but this wasn't the time to think about the voice.

Hmm. The song was slow, and drawn-out, and in the key of D. Hmm. Yes. He could do this.

"You ready?" Malik asked. Mariku quirked an eyebrow at him in answer, thinking, _Holy Ra, he looks like **me**…! Although, I wonder how he gets his hair to behave…_

The "snippet" of the song was starting again. Mariku sighed, and let his fingers have free reign. Bass guitar wasn't hard; just stay with the beat, stay in key, and improvise if you wanted to. Yeah.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Bakura didn't gape: it was a Gods-cursed fact. But after Mariku played, he almost did. Just _almost_. Not quite (though the others would argue otherwise).

He'd blown them away, which was hard to do with such an insanely short snip of music. He'd kept the beat easily, and had done tricky finger-work, even hitting every offbeat. After playing with Bones for so long, Bakura was almost salivating. _I want to play with this guy_.

Ryou jumped up and ran around the table. "You were _wonderful_," he exclaimed breathlessly. "And you just saved my sanity. Thank you _so much_!"

Malik sidled up behind him. "Good job," he drawled, extending a hand. "Ishtar Malik. And you?"

Mariku took the pro-offered hand. "Istali Mariku." Malik's hand was warm and firm, calloused while thin and fragile. "Pleasure to meet you."

_Mm… he looks delicious close up._

Malik nodded. "Same here. Why haven't we heard of you? Everyone else here we've heard a little bit about, even that Rex idiot… the fangirl was an exception, of course," he grimaced.

_Pretty **and** smart. How cute_. He chose his words carefully. "I decided to perfect my technique before joining up with anyone, and I just signed with my agent half a year ago." _Hehe, liar. I don't practice at all, really… and I was **born** signed to Shaadi,_ he thought somewhat sourly.

Isis joined them, Bakura at her side. "Let's all get some lunch, shall we? Istali-san, you're welcome to join us. Yuugi's gone to tell the keyboardists to come back later, and we'll meet him outside."

Mariku thought for a moment. Lunch with Yami, or lunch with these people? Yami would be _awfully_ angry if he just disappeared…

"Lunch would be wonderful," he said, smiling with all his teeth.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

After Mutou Yuugi had told them to come back at around 3:30, Yami growled. Mariku was nowhere to be found, and he had turned off his phone. "I'm going to kill him," he told himself thoughtfully. "Yes… that sounds nice…"

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

"If auditions started at 1:00, then why haven't you had lunch yet?" Mariku asked. "Granted, I haven't either, but that's because I woke up at 12:20."

Bakura snorted. "Because the fucking NGI people wanted us at the building by 10:00 to run through security measures, show us the room, set up, _bore us to death_…"

"Bakura, they just wanted to be sure that everything was to our satisfaction," Yuugi scolded. "You just have a short attention span!"

"Be that as it may, I still say that they were fucking bastards," Bakura said virtuously. "Oh, _finally,_" he said, as two waiters bearing their meals arrived. "That only took forever…"

"I'll thank you to have some manners," Isis said calmly, then wrinkled her nose at the bloody mess on his plate. "What is _that_?"

He blinked innocently. "A steak? Rare? Aww, Mariku got the same thing," he whined when she glared at him disapprovingly.

Ryou shuddered, forking into his fettuccine alfredo. "I think I like pasta better," he said, face somewhat green as he peered at their plates.

Yuugi giggled as he began downing his gigantic chocolate milkshake. "That's lovely," he sighed happily, grinning slightly scarily. Ryou shook his head. "You and your sweets, Yuugi… eat your actual food, too!"

"Eww… all that fattening food," Malik shuddered. He himself had only ordered a salad and some fruit.

"Ohh, shut up, you silly dancer," Isis chided affectionately. "You like _bacon_, you know."

"That's different!" Malik protested. "Bacon is… _bacon_!"

"Nuh-uh!" Ryou disagreed.

"Uh-huh!"

"Oh, don't you 'uh-huh' his 'nuh-uh'!"

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

At 3:30, Yami was ready to kill. He sipped his frauppacino, letting the cold rush down his throat in a futile effort to calm himself down. His features hardened as he saw a certain blond skipping towards him.

_Skipping_.

"Where. Have. You. _Been?_" The words were short, bitten out through gritted teeth. "I looked _everywhere_, you evil… evil…" Yami struggled, trying to find a noun that would describe the damnation that was Mariku, and came up empty handed.

"Some 'Congratulations!' that is," Mariku sniffed, mock-wounded. A too-wide smile spread across his face. "But you don't count, anyways, so it's all good. I made it into the baaaand!" He paused to glare reproachfully at Yami. "I hope you do terribly."

He skipped a few paces away, and then turned around and smiled again, scarily. "Good luck!"

He turned again, and left, leaving Yami to blink a few times before shaking his head as if to clear it. He then began to make his way to the waiting room.

_What the bloody hell was that?_

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Malik sank into the splits when they got back into the audition room, sighing happily as his muscles stretched. "Mm… yeah, that's good…"

"Malik, you sound orgasmic!" Yuugi snickered. "And get up off the floor! You don't know where it's been!" he said warningly, before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

"You shouldn't have had that second giant milkshake, brat," Bakura said wryly as Ryou looked on, bemused.

"We have to start the auditions in five minutes," Isis said distractedly. "Okay, the piano's over there, and Mariku'll be here in a second…"

Ryou went to her. "Isis, the piano will not grow legs and walk away, I _promise_," he told her firmly. "If it does, you have permission to gouge my hear out with a plastic spoon for lying. All right?"

She breathed in deeply. "Yes… yes. I'm all right, Ryou."

Ryou beamed at her, and was about to speak, but – "Of course you're all right! The _world_ is gorgeous! Rainbows and bunnies and hearts!"

Ryou turned around slowly. "Er… Yuugi?"

Yuugi had the grace to look sheepish. "Hehe… he?"

Mariku burst in. "Let's start!"

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

**A little bit shorter than usual, I know, but it seemed like a good place to end the chapter. I had fun writing this, especially the little sections about Yami being annoyed. Next chapter, I'll focus mostly on him, because I feel like I've been neglecting him a little bit. Aww.**

**Anyways, review and make my day!**


	5. Too much Sleep

**Contrary to popular belief, I am still alive. School has been terrible. I meant to get this chapter out during winter break, but life got in the way. I'm really so terribly sorry. To make it up to you guys, though, I wrote two more pages than I normally do. I hope that appeases you somewhat…**

**Everyone should thank Lirdianc for making me get my ass in gear. It sucks when you know another author in person, because they can threaten you and actually carry it out. Damn.**

**Pairings: Yami/Yuugi, Ryou/Bakura, Malik/Mariku. Maybe Kaiba/Jou if they fit into the plot. Perhaps Rishid/Isis… if enough people ask for it. (Meaning, if you want it, then TELL ME. If you don't, then TELL ME. I need your input!)**

**Disclaimer: Saying that I own Yuu-Gi-Oh! Is like saying that world peace will ever happen. It's just won't work, as much as I wish it would. Still, the plot's mine, and I don't tolerate plagiarism. If you want to borrow something, just ask. ALSO! All songs are MINE. I WRITE ALL OF THE SONGS IN THIS STORY. DO NOT TAKE THEM. THEY ARE MINE. (I'm just a little protective of my songs. Sorry.)**

**Notes for this chapter:**

**Bakura's papers- Bakura wouldn't be himself without an angsty past. I know, I know… I torture my favorite characters so (and that's why Ryou and Bakura are always so abused). So, he has grown up in an orphanage and the head of the orphanage is his guardian; however, since he's so far away, she's sending papers to make Isis his legal guardian.**

**I have obviously messed around with relationships in this, and I don't mean the slash; I mean the weird ones, like Bakura and Yuugi, and Mariku and Yami. If they're OOC, please bear with me, because these characters have been with each other for a while, and are fond of each other as they never would be in Yuu-Gi-Oh!. Well… maybe not Mariku and Yami, but you know…**

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Yami got the place in the band. Not that it was a surprise to him, but it was still nice to have his piano skills recognized by someone other than Shaadi and Shaadi's cat (which, by all the Gods, was the most spoiled creature Yami had ever met in his life).

One month later, they were currently sitting in The House, as the mansion had been deemed, Yuugi and Malik locked in a fierce DDR battle. Yami stared at the glowing arrows, feeling slightly dizzy. Did they really have to _flash_ like that? It burned his eyes. Perhaps it was just fatigue catching with him. After all… it _was_ 3:30 in the morning.

"Haha, Yuugi, you missed that combo! You're as good as dead," Malik said gleefully, panting slightly. "And you're only on Light mode, too!"

"Shut up, you," Yuugi said, missing another arrow and nearly falling over. "I just started playing 2 days ago, and you're just insane to be playing on Heavy."

"Just means that I'm better than you!" Malik said cheekily as the song pounded to an end.

Malik: AA

Yuugi: C

"At least I didn't fail," Yuugi sighed, before collapsing onto a nearby beanbag chair and rubbing his eyes.

"Anyone else up to challenging me?" Malik asked smugly, stretching languorously. Yami saw Mariku's eyes following the movement, and rolled his own.

"Malik," Ryou whined, "you're a professional dancer, and the rest of us aren't! So hush!" The singer was buried under a down comforter on the suede chair in a darkened corner, curled up with a pillow. "Is it time for us to sleep yet?"

Bakura snorted. "Tired already, _princess_?" he sneered, an amused glint in his eyes.

Ryou sat up, silver hair mussed and flying, blanket rustling. "No!" he said hotly. "I'm just worried for the well-being of all of us. And I think Isis told us we had something to do in the afternoon… does anyone else remember?"

The question was ignored. Yami rolled his eyes again. "How about we just… pop in a movie or something?" he suggested.

"Ringu?" Mariku suggested hopefully from his cross-legged seat on the floor.

"_No_!" Yuugi and Ryou yelped together. Ryou pulled the comforter over his head, and Yuugi sank deeper into the beanbag chair, snatching a pillow from the floor to hug, and shook his head vigorously.

"Why can't we watch… Pokémon, or something?" Ryou asked, voice muffled.

Heads turned to stare at the heap of blanket incredulously. "_What_?" Yami asked, not believing his ears. "That?"

"Magic Knight Rayearth?" Ryou asked instead of answering.

"Come _on_, Ryou," Malik said, pouncing on top of him. "It's not like you haven't seen it before."

"I had to sleep with Isis for three weeks afterwards!" Ryou wailed. Mariku turned his snicker into a cough. "Why do I have to have a TV in my room, anyways?"

"Especially one built into the wall, too," Yuugi said thoughtfully, and shuddered. "I really don't want to watch it, either."

Bakura huffed. "Too scared? Ringu isn't scary at all."

"Oh, I agree. Ringu's worse than scary," Yuugi replied acidly, throwing the pillow into Bakura's face before stomping over to Ryou's corner.

Yami took the opportunity to whisper in Mariku's ear. "I've got to go to Sakura Corp. tomorrow. Tell them I'm sick or something, ok?"

Mariku raised his eyebrows at him. "Don't you mean _today_? It's 4:00."

Yami hissed impatiently. "You know what I mean! Yes, all right? _Today_ at 10:00. I'm going off to bed as soon as they decide on the movie."

"If you say so," Mariku shrugged. "I don't care."

"I know you don't care," Yami muttered darkly. "I know."

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

"Yami, you look _terrible_," Shizuka said later that day while handing him a mug of coffee. "Late night?"

"You could say that," Yami said, careful to keep his voice even, before sipping. He smiled when he tasted the right amount of sugar and no cream. "Thanks, Shizuka. I needed that."

She smiled at him. "Of course! You look like the living dead." She patted his shoulder comfortingly, and continued, "Don't worry. It'll get better."

The corners of Yami's mouth lifted slightly at her perpetually sunny attitude. "You just never have a bad day, do you?" he asked her.

She widened her eyes, and then winked. "Bad day? What's that?"

Shaking his head with amusement, he walked into the elevator, sipping his coffee, and rode all the way to the top floor. He knocked on the manager's door, and entered when a voice called, "Come in."

"Morning, Otogi," Yami said, sliding into a chair and pinching the bridge of his nose tiredly. "How are you?"

"Decent," Otogi shrugged. "And you?"

"Not so good, actually," Yami admitted, sighing. "You've… you've heard of Bakura Ryou, haven't you?"

Otogi snorted. "Who _hasn't_? Pretty voice, there, but his clothes could stand to be a little less conservative. More skin would go a long way. What does he have to do with you?"

"Well… I'm kind of signed onto his band, and it's a two-year contract at best if I don't renew it. What am I going to do about this internship?"

Otogi's eyebrows drew together. "Please tell me this is your idea of an extremely cruel joke."

Yami shrugged helplessly. "Wish I could. You're taking this awfully well, by the way. Is there any way I could stay on at Sakura? Be a traveling agent or something?"

"Traveling agent for _what_?" Otogi snapped. He was over the surprise; now he was just _mad_. "We're a technology company, not the damned mafia! We invent things! We fix things! We don't travel!"

"Otogi, it's not my fault!" Yami said defensively. "I didn't have a choice!"

"Well, before you decided that you didn't have a choice, did you think about this company?" Otogi asked furiously, not caring if he didn't make sense. "You're one of the damn best we've ever had, and we were going to hire you for real after two months! You weren't supposed to know that, but hell! It doesn't matter now, does it?"

Yami felt sick inside. "I… was about to be hired for real?" he asked hollowly. _It could have been my big break_.

"You fucking were!" Otogi said emphatically. "With you, maybe we could have even run neck-to-neck with Kaiba Corp! Gods, Yami… Shit. Just shit."

Yami stumbled to his feet, reaching into his pocket for his cell phone. Shaadi was in town until next week. "Can I meet you at the Cat Café in an hour?" he asked. He stormed out before waiting for an answer.

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

"Shaadi, I can't do this!" Yami was near tears, hands balled into fists. "I was about to get promoted, and Sakura could have even rivaled Kaiba, and I like the people in the band, but technology is my _dream_, Shaadi, and I…"

Shaadi waited a few more minutes until Yami had talked himself out before inquiring, "Are you quite finished?"

Eyes red-rimmed, voice now hoarse, nails digging into palms, Yami nodded.

Shaadi sipped a crystal goblet of pale wine. "Good." He paused, setting the glass down with a gentle clink on the table. "Now, can you explain to me _calmly_ what your reason is for coming into my office and demanding for me to terminate your contract with… Isis?" He paused almost imperceptibly before saying the hated name, but Yami knew Shaadi well enough to notice.

Yami took a deep breath, and poured out the entire story about his internship-to-be-job at Sakura Corp. When his passionate speech ended, Shaadi picked up his goblet and drank the rest of the liquid.

"You can't be serious."

Yami clenched his teeth. "I assure you that this is no joke. I. Can't. Do This."

Shaadi pinned him with a cool stare, face calm but for his burning eyes. "And what happened to your loyalty to your clan?" he asked, voice clipped. "Are you choosing your dream over your family?"

"And what would you do," Yami said slowly, "If I said 'yes'?"

Shaadi's face went pale with rage under his perpetual tan. "There would be unpleasant consequences."

Yami scowled. "Yeah? Well bring it on. I'm sick of having to always do the 'right thing'! I want to do what _I_ want to do, damn it!"

"Impudence!" Shaadi cried, slamming the goblet down onto the desk, uncaring as it shattered. "I will _not_ let you throw away centuries of dedication to the Arts, do you _understand me_?"

"Do _you_ understand that I'm not going to take this any longer?"

Shaadi picked up a piece of sharp, broken crystal dripping with wine, and turned it absently in his fingers as he said, calm once more, "What do you expect me to do, Yami? Don't make me out to be the bad guy here. I have to think of the good of the clan before all else. If there was another talented pianist in the clan right now of the right age, I would let you go with a blessing, but that isn't the case!"

Yami would normally have understood. He normally would have said, "Yeah, Shaadi, I know how hard it is for you. I know that _you_ never get to do anything you really want or enjoy, either. I know that life is hard for you, too."

But this wasn't the time for "normally". "Shaadi, you've got to do something! I can't play well if I'm constantly wanting to be somewhere else!"

Shaadi looked straight into his eyes, and suddenly Yami felt a little guilty. Shaadi seemed very, very tired all of a sudden, and when he spoke, he sounded almost defeated. "I know," he sighed. "Believe me, Yami, I know. And I really wish I could help you, but…"

Yami began to pace. "It'll take at least a year to record the album, if everything goes on schedule… so I can stay at Sakura Corp. for at least another year, right? If we record slowly, it might take two years, and my contract would have ended, but… that's a snail's pace. No one ever goes that slowly. So is it safe to say that I have a year to a year and a half left?"

Shaadi nodded. "You're covered until then. I give you permission to stay at Sakura Corp. as long as it doesn't interfere with the band… by the way, have you got a name yet? It's so tedious thinking of you children as 'The Band'."

"Kind of like 'The House'," Yami muttered under his breath.

"What was that? I didn't quite catch it…?"

"Never mind."

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

"Sooo," Bakura drawled as Yami slipped back into his room. "Where have _you_ been?"

Yami jumped, his heart thudding loudly in his chest. "Holy mother of--! Bakura! What are you doing in my _room_?"

The guitarist grinned darkly. "Isis sent me up half an hour ago with _that_." He nodded at a tray on Yami's desk. "I figured you'd show up sooner or later."

Yami glared at him. "It's none of your business where I've been. But. I'm taking a nap now," he said meaningfully, looking pointedly at the door.

Bakura snickered at him, and settled more comfortably in the overstuffed chair he was sitting in. "Not moving. So sorry."

"Bakura!" If Yami hadn't been in a good mood to start with, Bakura would have been severely hurt by now. "Get _out_!"

"Not until you tell me where you've been," Bakura said smugly. A knife appeared out of thin air, and he began to weave it through his fingers absently. Yami watched him, momentarily distracted.

"You know, I've always wondered… where did you learn to do that? It's not exactly something that you can look in the phonebook for a teacher for…" he remarked, watching the flashing silver. "And your fingers aren't scarred at all, so you couldn't have screwed up while learning. Impressive."

Bakura rolled his eyes. "Obviously, dipshit. I'm not telling you where I learned, but it's of course my fingers aren't scarred. Who would want to watch a guitarist with scratched up fingers play? Not that I would ever slip up, of course," he said arrogantly. "My agent thinks otherwise. Annoying guy, but he's decent."

"Hmm, really? Mine is…" Yami paused, searching for the right word. "He's… difficult. But he means well, I think."

"I would like to commend you on your almost-distraction-not-really. Where have you been?"

"Do you want the truth?"

"I've just been sitting here because I love your company. _Of course I want the truth!_"

"It's pretty boring…. I was with my agent. Talking over my contract. Will you leave now?"

Bakura snorted. "Was that all I've been wasting my time for? No secret lover? Damn. How dull." The knife disappeared to whence it had come, and he slid out of the chair and walked out the door. "I'll say that you had a bad dream and I had to calm you down or something. Who knows? Might've been a nightmare about an illegitimate child coming to murder you…" He chuckled manically before slamming the door behind him.

Yami blinked at the closed door for a second, and then shook his head, mumbling, "Whatever he's on is working _very_ well. Now, about that nap…"

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Ryou woke up at 1:30 in the afternoon, and stayed in bed for another half an hour, eyes half-open and just being lazy for the sake of being lazy.

They had ended up watching some American movie, the Titanic, which Ryou had thought to be good all around. Except for the ending. Damn Malik and Bakura for laughing at him when he had cried as DiCaprio-san died. But really! It had been so terribly sad…

He finally slid out of bed, stumbling into the bathroom. They'd finally all gone to bed at around 7:30… and by all that was holy, he was _never_ doing that again.

"I wonder if anyone else is awake yet," he said to his reflection in the mirror as he brushed his hair.

He frowned quizzically at the door as he heard wild laughter followed by a loud slam. "Odd," he muttered, trying to tease a knot into behaving. "I guess that answers my question though… Ow!"

The door to his bathroom burst open and Malik wrapped his arms around Ryou's waist and squeezed, beaming. "I was up half an hour ago, sleepy! I think Yami caught a cold or something, according to Bakura. Weird, huh? He was fine last night during the movie… right? He was watching the movie, right? I can't really remember…"

Ryou rolled his eyes at him affectionately before wriggling out of his grasp and setting the brush down. "Who else is awake?" he asked, instead of answering Malik's questions.

Malik thought for a moment, tapping pursed lips with a finger. "Well, there's me, of course, and Isis, and Bakura was awake before I was… I was on my way to get Mariku and Yuugi up as well."

Ryou nodded, then yawned. "Tell you what. You go get Mariku and I'll take care of Yuugi, all right? It'll take less time that way, and Yuugi's room is on the way to the kitchen, anyways."

"Ryou-chan is so _sweet_!" Malik cooed, poking said person's cheek before skipping out of the room. "Hugs and kisses to you!"

Ryou watched him bounce away, a ball of energy hurtling through the hall… and breaking… a vase… that Isis had spent a week painting…

Shaking his head at the yelling that would come when Isis found the mess, he started towards the other end of the hall, stopping and knocking gently at a deep violet colored door.

"Yuugi? Yuuuugi? Are you awake yet, little drummer boy?"

A low groan made its way to Ryou's ears. "Go 'way, 'm tired," a sleepy voice said. "'N dun call me that."

Ryou grinned and opened the door, stepping in and then shutting it quietly behind him. "It's 2:15, Yuugi," he said. "Time to wake up!"

A crown of spiky hair disappeared under a pillow. "Nnn…"

"Oh, dear. Don't make me tickle you, now…"

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Malik squeaked quietly and tiptoed away from the mess that was the vase before huffing angrily and going back to pick up the pieces so that no one would cut themselves by stepping on the shards later. He piled the fragments of porcelain behind the stand on which the vase had previously sat, and hoped and prayed that Isis wouldn't find it before he could find a replacement.

That being done, he walked more cautiously to the second to last door on the East end of the hallway (the last being a guest bedroom), and knocked on the door painted a sandy color with gold flecks before walking in without waiting for an answer.

"You," he said, in the tone of one who is announcing something extremely important, "Are still asleep."

There was no reply, only the sound of slow, even breathing. Malik pouted. It was truly a waste when such a wonderfully dramatic line had been used on one who insisted on being asleep. Really, where were Mariku's manners?

"Wake up," Malik demanded, stomping one foot on the floor. "…Please?" he wheedled, when that didn't work. "Oh, for crying out loud…"

He stalked over to the bed and peered into the sleeping face, blinking at it. "Hellooo? Anyone in there?"

Eyes flashed open. "Yes," a voice said huskily before two arms twined around him and pulled him down.

Malik lay there for a minute, stunned into silence (a miracle in and of itself). "Y-you." He finally squeaked. "You… you damnable… person… oh, hell, give me a second to think of a decent insult, please."

"You can have all day, if you like," Mariku said, bemused, breathing in the scent of Malik's hair. "I think you're going to be staying here now. Mm. Goodnight."

Pulled in close, Malik slowly turned a dark red, glad that his back was to Mariku's chest so that the other couldn't see his face. _Why am I acting like this?_ he wondered furiously. _I'm not Ryou! I've fucked people before! He's just another guy! My crushes don't last long… a week at most._

_Then how come it's already been **four** weeks?_ a voice that sounded uncomfortably like a mix of Isis and Ryou asked.

Malik scowled. _This is like some stupid storybook romance! Now I'm supposed to realize that I'm in love with him and we'll confess to each other and there'll be violin music and roses and cake, and…_

Malik blinked as one of the hands attached to one of the arms around his waist stroked his side. "Malik? You got kind of quiet there. What were you thinking about?"

Malik didn't have to turn around to know that a devilish smirk was spreading across Mariku's face. "Were you thinking of all the things you'd like me to do to you? Because I would be too happy to oblige…"

Malik grinned, and turned around in Mariku's arms to face him, and smiled up into his face. "Roses and cake, actually," he said, laughing as a sultry look was replaced by one of pure confusion. "And don't flatter yourself, darling. Whoever said I had a crush on you, anyways?"

Mariku sighed. "You've broken my heart, Malik… I'll just hold on to the fact that you called me 'darling' to heal it."

Malik smiled. "You say I break your heart _every_ day, SWEETHEART," he said wickedly.

"You wound me. Really, you do. Want to kiss me to make me feel better?"

"What did I said about not flattering yourself? It's a bad habit for everyone but me, you know, because in my case flattery is always true. You, on the other hand…"

"Ouch… dear heart, you've hurt me so deeply I don't think I can find the strength to get up. I've got to get some more sleep…"

"_Don't you dare go back to sleep---!"_

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Isis looked around at the five other faces at the table very slowly, meeting each pair of eyes squarely. "You do realize," she said evenly, "That we're having breakfast at 3:45 in the afternoon?"

A small gurgle upset the silence after her words. Yuugi turned bright red. "Eh… heh? My stomach realizes…"

Ryou bit his lip to keep from laughing as Bakura, Malik, and Mariku laughed outright before it was quelled by an icy stare from Isis. _I've really got to make her teach me how to do that,_ Ryou thought wistfully.

"If you boys are going to stay up until 7:30 in the morning, all the more power to you. But _really_! Did none of you hear me when I said we were having consultations with a stylist today at 2:45?"

Five respective pairs of eyes widened in horror. _So that's what I was forgetting!_ Ryou thought. Isis went on coldly, "I had to cancel, but he'll see us tomorrow at 3:00. If you all forget again, you do _not_ want to know what the punishment will be."

_It's funny,_ Bakura thought somewhat dazedly, _That she's not even someone I've known for very long, and she's still so terrifying… although, once those papers get mailed back, Isis actually will be my legal guardian. That's a terrifying thought…_

"We're sorry," Yuugi offered meekly.

"Very, very sorry," Ryou said.

"And we'll never do it again," Malik put in smoothly.

"We didn't mean to make you mad," Ryou said, eyes wide and soulful. "And—"

"'We promise to make it up to you next time,'" Isis said with Malik. "Oh, come now. You say the same thing _every time_, you two idiots! 'You'll never do it again.' Right. It's true, you never do the same thing twice, oh, no. You always manage to find a _different_ way to ruin my life each time."

Ryou and Malik glanced at each other. "Um… whoops?"

Isis threw her toast at Malik. "Shut up."

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

"11:00!" Isis called. "Bed for all of you! Has anyone checked on how Yami's doing?"

"…Well you see, I meant to, but…"

"I thought he was still asleep!"

"I _thought_ I hadn't seen him all day!"

"Who really cares?"

"I brought him the tray…"

"You lot are _useless_," Isis sighed. "I'll go check on him." She fixed a bowl of soup in the kitchen, and started up the staircase, balancing it on yet another tray. "Damn it, I know it looks impressive, but why did we have to get a house with this many stairs?" she growled under her breath.

She walked in to find Yami sitting up in bed, reading a book. The previous tray was polished clean. "Feeling better?" he asked, handing him the bowl of steaming liquid.

"Much," he replied. "I think I was too tired."

"Oh, Ra, I wonder why," she said sarcastically. "Get some rest. Consultations are at 3:00 tomorrow, all right?"

Yami choked on a spoonful of soup. "Oh Gods! Those were today!"

"They were," Isis sighed. "It's okay. Just get some sleep, and I'll see you in the morning."

"Mmkay," the keyboardist said, sinking back down into the pillows as she took the empty bowl. "Thanks."

After she left, he smiled to himself. "She's actually a very nice person, isn't she?"

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

Malik ran into Mariku's room at 11:30, shouting, "You damnable dickhead mother fucking pigeon from fucking _hell_!"

At Mariku's look of wide-eyed shock, Malik blinked innocently. "Whaat? You said I had all day to think of an insult." He winked at Mariku and headed out the door. "'Night."

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

The next morning, they were all woken up by a loud, "MALIK, WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE TO MY VASE?"

**OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

**And that, my dears, is where I leave you. Review, please!**


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